A Song of Seasons
by TheFinalElements
Summary: It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky.
1. Prologue

**Hey, guys!**

**This is my third story on this account. Third attempt, I guess. The two others have both been failures because literally nobody reviewed them until like a century later(The case of my Warriors fanfiction. The other just had one) I hope this is better than its predeccesors(Oh whoops I spelled that wrong)and everybody who reads it likes it. I really had fun killing, though. I'm a serial killer when it comes to writing *Brings out knives***

**The prospect of writing a story that expresses emotion rather than action is inspired by ScytheRider's Eon Fable You should read it, people.**

_**Update: I have changed the genres from Hurt/Comfort/Angst to Hurt/Comfort/Adventure. Also, from now on, I will be constantly changing the characters shown on the summary until there are only main characters of the story, though Druddigon will always be there. This is to prevent any confusion on why I put in pokemon that are not in the story. **__**Most of you are probably wondering why Altaria is stated, even when I didn't even mention an altaria anywhere. This is because it will appear as an important character in later chapters. The axew is present because it will be in the next update. *Cough*Two Spoilers*Cough* No, just kidding.**_

**Without further ado, read on!**

* * *

It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky.

They covered the landscape in a soft white blanket, weighing down the naked skeletons of trees and collecting on the broad surfaces of holly. No animal went outside, no living creature dared to break the smooth white ground that shimmered softly as rays of stray sunlight fell upon them. It was a peaceful world out there, a perfect wonderland of white.

The snowfall continued, sending flurries of snowflakes drifting to the ground, settling one after another.

From a small hollow in a rotting tree, a sneasel poked his head out, only to shrink back into the cavity with a small yelp when a thin film of snow settled on his head and ear. From inside the safety of the tree, the sharp claw pokemon marveled at how something so small could dominate everything. He wondered how much snowflakes it would take, one by one, to pile up and cover the trees, bushes, and anything it can reach for miles and miles.

And for once, he wanted to be as powerful as snow. Snow was dangerous, snow was a symbol of strength.

But of course, everything had its weaknesses, the sneasel thought, brushing off the snow on his head. It was already starting to melt into water by the warmth of his head. The water trickled down his slick dark fur in rivulets, but not before making an impression on its host, leaving it with nothing short of a brain freeze.

He wasn't affected by the coldness. Sneasels were ice type pokemon after all, and the partial alliance to cold had its benefits.

But to other pokemon, snow could kill. It would strike while its victim was asleep, sucking away all its energy with every cold prick of its touch, and melt. But snow could also preserve, and prevent bodies from rotting and becoming part of the earth, and save bits and traces of life from being wiped off the face of the planet.

In a way, the soft, white, and presumingly fluffy substance could determine someone's demise as well as help someone prosper. He just had to face the good side, and make snow his ally.

It had been a month into his pilgrimage, a ritual every young sneaslet had to do in order to prove themselves worthy for joining a tribe. They were to be cast out for half a year, and survive with no help at all. Nothing, except their sharp wits. And the particular member was confident he would survive. He was literally the alpha of his litter. While he was thinking, something caught his eye.

Without another though, the bipedal pokemon jumped out of its shelter in the hole and dashed toward a large stone looming in the distance, not caring whether anyone saw his bright red ear-feather flapping like a beacon in the breeze and the shallow two-toed tracks left in his wake.

* * *

When the sneaslet poked his protruding head into the cavern, he knew that the impulse was nothing short of a vision of greatness. His red pupils focused on the distinctive blue and red of a great Druddigon, her rough hide broken up with scars that marked the victories and losses of a lifetime.

Fortunately for the sneasel, the lumbering mass of a dragon-type didn't notice the potruding yellow gem, nor the feather on its ear. The rest of Sneasel's body was soon enveloped by the shadows as his ducked inside the cave.

The sneasel repeatedly blinked his large eyes as they adjusted to the gloom of the cave. It was surprisingly warm for such a thing made out of rocks, at least compared to the ongoing flurry of snow outside. With his adjusted night vision, the sneasel expertly sidestepped a puddle of collecting snow-water, gracefully clearing a pile of pebbles, weaving past muddy patches, and staying in the shadows while at it.

Sneasels were designed to stalk their prey swiftly and silently, in the darkness.

Of course, the sneasel wasn't going to attack the female druddigon. That would have been suicide. He was aiming for a small round object that was in her embrace, spotted with colors that matched her own. Just the sight of it made his stomach flip in hunger, for he hadn't eaten for days now.

It was an egg. To be exact, a druddigon's egg.

Eggs were a delicacy among the sneasels and weaviles. It took a skilled creature to track down the egg, lure the mother away from it, and capture the egg. He could eat the small, undeveloped baby inside, and save the eggshells as proof of an accomplishment. Then no one would laugh at him anymore.

He has already tracked down the egg. Now he had to lure the parent away from it.

Easy, if you knew know to do it.

Stealthily, the sharp claw pokemon bent down, his claws curling around a stray stone on the sandy gravel. The rough basalt was about four inches wide, and felt increasingly heavy in his hands. There were more than enough lying around. With a deft flick of his arm, the sneasel flung the stone outside, into the snowstorm raging outside.

It met it's planned target a second later, diving into a snow-laden bush. The plant shook furiously, a shower of white splatting onto the ground as the snow on its leaves slipped away. As if on cue, a slumbering rattata was pulled out of its hibernation and with squeaks of alarm, scurried away in the snow.

Sneasel's plan worked. The mother druddigon snapped her head toward the commotion, and, thinking it as some sort of threat, lumbered toward it. The sneaslet waited until the last of her spiked tail disappeared from sight, and quickly advanced toward the single egg huddled in a pile of boulders. His feet skimmed the ground, until he reached his food. Since there was no time to take the egg back, he would eat it on the spot. The sneasel reached his claws forward, ready to break the thin outer layer like he'd been taught to do.

And for the first time in a long time, he hesitated.

The druddigon egg was translucent, and he would see the shadow of an almost fully developed baby beneath the shell. It curled up in a tiny ball, floating in the yolk of its shelter. He was committing murder in a way, killing an innocent soul before it got a chance to experience the pleasures of the outside world that was waiting for it.

"It has to be done." He whispered, then before he could change his mind, dug his razor-sharp claws into the eggshell, pulling it apart.

* * *

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The druddigon was confused for a brief moment as she scanned the landscape around her den. The only set of tracks were hers, plus the rattata's. There seemed to be no pokemon in sight other than her. She shook herself to dislodge the gathering snow, growling as more took its place. She would be going in soon, after making sure there was no threat to her developing egg.

Then she saw it.

There were a set of two toed tracks, as clear as day at the other side of the den, she followed were the tracks pointed, a skill that she excelled at after tracking prey for many years. Her yellow eyes followed the tracks until it stopped…at the entrance of her cave.

Druddigons were smarter than people think. They could solve quite a few logic problems. When the mother druddigon saw the clues, it took no time at all to piece then together to a final conclusion-someone was in her home.

She roared with immense fury, then stormed into the cavern like a tornado in the loose. Nobody was going to hurt her baby!

* * *

The sneasel jumped as the mother druddigon appeared in the entrance, her eyes filled with hatred. He wanted to run away before any damage was done on him. Normal druddigons were not like ursarings. They would only kill in anger if you actually hurt their young. He wanted to run away, he wanted to with all his life. But as he looked at his claws, which were coated with egg yolk, he knew it was too late.

The egg was in pieces now. Its shell was split in half with a few flakes lying here and there, coated with a sticky liquid. In the middle of the wreck, a premature druddigonet lay, curled in a ball. He couldn't even tell whether it was breathing or not.

The sneasel looked around frantically. In the panic, he couldn't think straight, and as the last resort he made a mad dash toward the entrance, furthest away from the raging dragon-type. Bad mistake.

Druddigons weren't exactly known for their speed, but that didn't make them slow on their feet. In a few seconds, the druddigon had crossed the small distance, and was grasping the ice-type by its neck. She squeezed hard, powered by the adrenaline of her loss.

The sneasel let out a squeal as he was lifted off he ground. He had underestimated he cave pokemon. When he though his lungs would burst, he was forcefully thrown face-first onto the ground, crushing the layered snow with his face and stomach. It was cold, with billions of tiny needles piercing his face.

_ROAR_

The second blow came down as the move Dragon Claw, aiming for the sneaselet's shoulder.

Pain. The sensation exploded in his right shoulder, searing through his whole body like a wildfire. Unbearable agony racked his whole body, as the blood trickled out, staining the white canvas-like ground a dark crimson. A series of shrill cries rang out from the ice and dark type pokemon, breaking the winter stillness.

When his vision cleared for a while, he saw that his whole arm had been marked with three long claw marks. The fur around it was bloated and swollen.

_HISS_

The third blow was on the side of his face, the claws slashing his cheeks. The widening lake of crimson kept growing. He was dying, it was obvious. Soon to be only conspicuous spot in the snow, not where a former life had fought his last battle, not where a youngling sneasel once loved had passed away, but rather just a spot filled with the stench of death, the only visitors being mandibuzz.

The sneaslet braced himself for the fourth blow,, but it never came. The mother druddigon had abandoned him, probably to look after her baby. So the young sneasel lay alone, helpless, before he finally lost the ongoing battle with snow.

* * *

"No, no, no…" whispered the druddigon after dealing with the sneasel, as she scrambled to where the egg lay in ruins. She choked down a sob, brushing away the eggshell pieces before gingerly picking up the tiny child in her arms. "Please…don't let her be dead."

But when she pressed the slimy yet precious life to her heart, she could just hear the faint _ba-dump, ba-dump _of a heart that refused to lay before death. She let down her tears, and cradled the baby in her arms. The druddigon had a mother's heart, and she loved what was in the egg. However, her eyes just couldn't help but notice how hideous was the mixture of green and orange covered the deformed creature.

It was early in December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky.

_TheFinalElements presents_

**_A Song of Seasons_**


	2. May Showers

**I have to admit that I'm surprised that this story is actually going to have a second chapter. Yeah, everybody thought it ended. I changed my mind. I do that a lot. After about 3,000 words got erased from my document, I went and re-typed it again from my memory, adding a few more details so that the whole thing was longer. I had planned to hold up until the chapter reached about 8K words or something to update for a longer chapter, but changed my mind AGAIN at the last moment and just posted this as it is now.**

**Sorry if this chapter is a little pointless or something, that's want happens when you write one event in an extremely extended amount of time. I also will apologize for any grammatical issues beforehand, since I was in a hurry and didn't have much time to re-read and edit. So yeah, procrastination issues.**

**Nugget: Without further ado, read on!**

_**(Edit: Aaaand the coding issues strike again. I fixed it within the first three minutes. Thank goodness I noticed)**_

* * *

_**::: Spring :::**_

_It was early December, when the first flakes of snow fell from the sky._

Mother told me that I hatched on December second, the first snowfall of the year. She told me that my egg was forced open by an impudent male sneasel, and I rolled out in a cascade of egg fluids as the storm raged on. She never told me what happened to the ice and dark type. My kind and weak heart just assumed he ran away into the storm, never to return.

I never remembered the fears and joys of my first winter. It seemed that my memory just bypassed the first three months of my life. And I've tried searching. There seemed to be a wall blocking me from my previous memories, connecting the other walls, the floor, and the ceiling together and leaving no cracks and crevices to slip through. I vaguely remember the other winters spent in the small valley wedged between two mountains. They were cold. Snow hurt so much, mainly due to me being a dragon type.

My first four years were filled with the wonders of nature. From my child's eyes, I followed the path of the plants as their green tendrils covered the once barren soil, and the verdant green stretched for miles and miles, ducking over the glowing horizon to places were I have never dreamed of exploring.

The first days of spring were filled with happiness and contentment. My mother and I picked the red, blue, and yellow bundles of flowers growing outside, their shape as intricate spiral as the petals spread outward. She would use her strong arms to lift me to the tops of bluk trees as I picked the dark fruit with my blunt, delicate fingers. We would forage for the spicy-sweet leichi berries and the juicy pecha in the vast stretch of land that my mom called "her territory" and insisted to defend it with her life.

But then my fifth spring rolled around.

* * *

My mother had a valiant warrior's heart and an appearance to match it. Her rough skin was torn with scars that have long healed, leaving sharp depressions in the sandpaper hide. Her wide, blue wings were sharp blades, the edges nicked from past battles. She had a battered crimson skull, complete with a wicked set of teeth. There was a huge gash of a scar on her tail that she wore with pride, Mom told me that I, too would have them one day, trophies of glorious battles that I would take wherever I go.

Then she taught me my first lesson on fighting. I was to break a specific branch with my newly learned move Dragon Claw. With a grunt of effort, I leapt onto the tree truck, clinging there and trying to gouge my claws into the trunk as best as I can. Being light had its share of advantages, and despite my unusually blunt talons, I succeeded in climbing its six foot tall frame, and slipped into the crack where the trunk split into three separate limbs.

I took a minute to the steady myself, then headed toward the limb facing the west side, ignoring the strange grinding feel of tree bark beneath my feet. The newly budding tree leaves and twigs were lashing at my snout, their tender ends running past my cheeks. I squinted, trying to make out my destination ahead.

My mom had chosen a branch about half a feet wide, maybe a little more. There were barely any twigs attached to the end, and a nick was placed along the center, showing the cream-colored wood underneath.

"I want you to cut this branch exactly here." My mom had explained to me, carving a shallow line into the bark with the tip of her claw. She did it with no considerable effort, and the wood split open to her will, as if she was slicing clay. She made it look so _easy. _I doubted it would be like that for me.

A strong gust of wind caught me unaware, sending my claws skittering across the wood and the leaves rattling wildly. Gritting my teeth, I hugged the branch and climbed forward in a manner similar to a slakoth. My performance was getting worse and worse.

I felt something tap at my side, and a blunt shape too warm to be a branch whisper to me. "Come on, Mandy. A storm's coming soon. We have to go back to our cave."

I untangled myself from the rugged bark and let myself fall into her arms. The roughness of the skin comforted me, scraping against the spine of my back. Each lumbering step sent a tremor through me, but I was used to that, so it didn't matter as much.

I squirmed a bit until I had climbed onto her shoulder, and glanced back at the oak, a mere silhouette against the murky storm air. A feeling of guilt stabbed at my stomach, swelling up into a knot. It bothered me that I have been able to at least reach the marked part of the branch, if not cut the wood clean off. I tucked my head under my green druddigon wings, watching as the spot that was our cave get closer by each thumping step.

After we arrived, I leapt onto the cavern ground, my feet skidding on the loose grit a little. Taking a moment to stead myself, I scrambled past the stalagmites, deeper into the cave. My mother didn't try to follow me. She knew she couldn't squeeze past the smaller openings. After a particularly tight squeeze – I was getting bigger every day – I entered the darkened dead end.

I stood in the gloom until my amber eyes began to adjust to the black. I knelt down, reaching my claw out and patting the ground beneath me. My vision was still fuzzy, but I knew it would clear in a minute or so. Druddigons were cave pokemon, after all, and though I wasn't exactly a normal duddigonet, I was still part of their species. Though I hardly looked and acted like one, not all instincts were lost in me.

A subtle_ clink _sounded as my scales met with a smooth, solid object, and I gingerly grasped it, placing the item on the center of my palm and wrapping my talons around it. I handled the object as gently as a mother would to her infant young, because it had as equal value to to as a baby was to their parents. Each and every item, however small, held a delicate memory.

I unfurled my hand, and examined the object. Even under poor light, I could tell that it was a coffee brown, and a bit pointed at on tip. The shape was a bit similar to a raindrop. The surface was somewhat rough and striped.

A sandslash scale.

_One fateful day last year in July, my mom had brought the evolved mouse pokemon in, all battered and bloody, some loose scales hanging from a thread of skin. It eyes were glassy, and the hide was lacerated with claw wounds._

_My mother was in better shape than the sandslash, though not by a lot much. She herself bore a few fresh wounds, and her breath was a bit close to a pant, though I suspected that it was from the distance she covered from the run. You don't usually find sandshrews in the meadow-lands, much less sandslash._

_It was the first time I had seen the creature, and the form was rather peculiar to me. Sure, it was covered in scales, and had a tan skin(how do you camouflage in that thing?), but what really disturbed me was the length of those gargantuan claws dangling from its limp arms. I shuddered at the thought of those sharp talons piercing skin, drawing blood. How my mother managed to bring down such a creature was beyond me._

"_Come on, eat up."_

_I had instinctively looked away, realizing that I had been staring at the creature while making a face. "Oh yay! I'm hungry." I piped up happily, grinning at my mother. It seemed to help, and her facial muscles relaxed. She bent down and began plucking the scales out, two at a time._

"_You probably haven't seen many of these before, Mandy." She rumbled as she worked. Her voice was fairly deep and had a gruff tone, but gentle all at the same time. "They're called sandslash, and they're native to the deserts and arid prairies rather than here. This one happened to wander where he wasn't supposed to be. Prey sometimes does that. See these claws?" At this, mother nudges the insanely long talons. "I've heard they grow back in a day or so if they break."_

_I blinked a few times. "Wha- Then how did you defeat it?" To me, it needed nothing short of a miracle, or maybe some luck._

_My mother smiled, just a bit, and the edges of her jaws lifted a little. "Practice, and hard work." She told me like any mother would. "When May com__es by next year, I'll teach you the ways of battling, and you'll never fear your prey ever again" She threw her arms up, which almost knocked over a stalagmite...or was it stalactite? "When our training together is done, you'll be able to take down creatures and humans three times your size!"_

_I grinned again, this time it was genuine. Her excitement was, in a way, contagious. Back then, I couldn't wait to start training._

_My mother finished removing the scales, and quickly skinned the sandslash. She off both claws, casting them outside for the scavengers to find, though they never venture any further into the cave, out of either respect or fear of Mother._

"_Got no meat in them." my mother claimed. "Just skin and bones."_

_She prepared a slice of meat for me, tender enough for my developing teeth, yet large and firm enough to harden them (She also advised me to chew on rocks, but I refused. Rocks taste horrible). Mother breathed a flamethrower on the slab, roasting it to a light tan. I reached my arms out to receive it._

_I bit into the delectable sandslash meat. It was rather stringy and extremely dry, unlike rattata meat. If I hadn't seen the food prepared right in front of me, I would have assumed it came from some sort of fowlbird._

_I was licking my lips at the last traces of blood when there was a loud sound behin-_

"Zzzzzz...hey!"

My eyes snapped open and met a pair of blood-red eyes. Startled, I yelped at the sudden attention and shot up from my position crouched on the stone ground. I picked myself up, my mind still not comprehending what was going on, and scurried toward the other end of cave.

"Wh-wh...What are you doing here?" I managed, glaring at the intruder with my back pressed up against the bumpy, curved walls. It wore an olive crest of sorts, along a bib that hugged its neck and stubby, dull green legs and forelegs. Hazel patches framed the crimson eyes that scared me out of my sleepiness a moment before, but the most peculiar of features were the stubby tusks protruding from the corners of its lips, which I identified the creature with.

"Y-your not supposed to be here!" I stumbled, staring at the axew with a gaze that I hoped would be threatening, and make up for the slip of words. I really needed to practice those social skills of mine.

The tusk pokemon met my gaze and tilted his head. "Storm. Lightning. Scary. Saw cave. Went inside." He paused. "Anyways, what are you?"

I was taken aback by the comment. "What am I?" I repeated, irritation growing in my mind. "I'm a druddigon. This is my cave." Technically, it was my mother's, but she said I was in charge of defending it when she wasn't present.

"Really?" The axew howled disbelievingly. He waved his pudgy fingers around for emphasis. "I mean, what kind of druddigon is green? And orange? Your wings are too floppy. You must be some new species."

I opened my mouth, about to make a comeback, when he interrupted me.

"Nah, it's just seriously demented." he concluded with a wave of dismissal as he turned away.

The irritation grew to anger. What kind of manners do they teach to axew?** (Nugget: *Breaks open fourth wall* it's also ironic, since Mandy was barely taught any manners herself. *pops back and fixes wall before anyone can notice*)** He acted like I had no life, an "it" rather than a creature that had real genuine feelings. And although I couldn't deny the demented part of me, I found it highly insulting.

"What?!" I growled in anger, though the sound came out from my jaws as more of a groan. The olive pokemon smirked a_ what are you going to do about it _looks. I wanted to wipe the expression off his face. Impulse took over my thoughts, pulsating a gentle by firm urge for action.

I hid my talons behind my back so the axew wouldn't notice the tips glowing white as I prepared my attack. Once charged, I darted in front of him and swiped the Dragon Claw at him, one aiming at his crest while the other arm went for his thighs in a rather cunning distraction strategy my mother once taught me. I was supposed to aim for the head rather than the crest, but I was a little queasy on what would result from it.

For some reason, I was given faster speed and sharper reactions, probably due to my size and the fact that my shape was more streamlined in comparison to other druddigons. It meant that I had the element of being first – even though the Dragon Claw was going to inflict little to no damage.

Unluckily, both were somewhat off target, the bottom one catching on nothing but dank cave air and the other one...well, the other claw hit his cheek.

The axew toppled in the ground with a small _thud _of impact at the blow, but quickly got up again. I tensed, thinking that he would strike back.

On the contrary, the tusk pokemon actually simpered, and rubbed his cheek. I examined the damage, and was surprised -maybe even a little disappointed- that my attack only made a dent in the flesh. It didn't even break skin, let alone draw blood. There were three small bruises, however, and an angry purple was beginning to show against the skin. I pressed one tip of my claw in the pad of another. The edges were smooth and tapered, as if I had been grinding the tip on a rock in my previous years.

"Stop it." I said gritting my teeth. "It's not funny."

The axew let his hand drop , acting like it was nothing, because it _was_ nothing. Pokemon barely feel any pain when enduring a weak move, how else are they supposed withstand Mother's devastating attacks. Well, many don't, but some do.

The tusk pokemon glaring at me, his eyes daunting me to do something. He pointed at the wound I caused. "I would have been seriously disfigured by this, if you hadn't been disfigured yourself. Got caught in a forest fire? A curse issued to punish your mom? Torn apart and fused toget-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence I leapt up and did a (successful) half-somersault in the air. I felt the stalactites/stalagmites brush my back as I maneuvered in mid-air, striking a critical hit Dragon Tail on his head (the largest target there was on him). He collapsed sideways, knocked out.

I did a tumble roll before finding my balance, and stood up on my legs, panting and out of breath. The adrenaline and aggravation that once powered my actions faded away until my thoughts were clear and organized again, giving way to a distinct sense of horror. My eyes widened as I stood up and gently walked to the unconscious creature, examining the damage. I had a fairly stubby tail with rounded spikes, and even though I delivered a critical hit, it only caused a insignificant dent in the skull. In fact, the only characteristic that wasn't blunt about me were my exceptionally long and floppy wings and my demeanor. Hopefully.

So if I knew my conditions right, he didn't get a concussion. I released my breath, realizing that I had been holding it in all along. A part of me wondered why I would be worried about such a rude pokemon, and the truth is, I don't quite get my actions either. I just simply feel sorry for victims caught in the cruel justice of nature, even when their really mean or if they needed to be killed in order for me to live.

"Did you hear that?"

The sound of whispering voices and the thundering footsteps that ensued snapped me out of my mindless trance. I lost my balance and fell on the floor, disturbing the dust and making a cloud of fine grit rise from the floor. Some of it I breathed in.

Rising up again with a bout of coughing, I quickly brushed the various knicknacks, including the sandslash scale, to the side of the cave for no apparent reason, then proceeded to scoot behind the axew's body and to the back of the cave.

Once again I cursed my the defects I was given at birth. Sure the large wings allowed me to shield myself against the wall of the cavern, where there was not much light, but the absurd neon green and orange of my hide was the one thing that would give me away. I muttered various complaints about my current situation that would be pointless to list here.

"There it is! It hurt Brother!"

I blinked in horror as a fraxure hurried inside the chamber where I was, followed by another fraxure that looked to be the first one's twin. I didn't even register that they called me "it" again. My only option was to press my back against the wall and hug my wings together and hope that they didn't recognize me in the gloom, which I did. My wings, being longer than two of my body lengths when together, were large enough to shield me.

I peeked through the membrane of my wing and saw the first fraxure running toward me, as was tempted to freeze and drop dead as my instinct commanded me to. Luckily, she turned and headed toward the slumped axew, using her arms to prop the olive creature up. She continued to gently drag him near the cave wall, with a arm around his head. The axew grunted. I guess I didn't quite knock him out after all.

The other twin fraxure with a look so menacing that I tucked my head in and closed them. I heard a growl, and picked up something like footsteps getting closer and closer.

_Great, I'm screwed for sure. _A part of me commented, though it was quite logical. Think about it-I had barely managed to deal damage to a lousy little axew, and what would I be against it's evolved form, let alone two? The first twin who was tending the axew seemed to be planning to stay that way and let her sister do the work, but she could also jump and beat me up anytime. I felt my claws glowing a little as they charged for another Dragon Claw. Of course, I wasn't aiming for the fraxures. That would have been suicide, right there.

I shifted my feet so that they had a decent foothold on the stone, then pushed off in an attempt to run out of the dead end situation I was in.

You see, physical moves contain a lot of pent-up potential energy inside them, ready to release and transform into kinetic power to deal damage to the opponent, whether with a claw, a tail, a beak, or another body part. Take the move High Jump Kick. The user prepares herself, building up energy in a chosen body part, this time the leg. Then the time is right, she pushes forward and propells her body toward the target, the now kinetic energy inside her leg ready to deal massive damage. Now suppose that she stupidly decides to use the move on a bidoof. Since the leg wasn't going to hit its targeted subject, where would it go?

You get where I'm going and what my plan is now?

It was risky, but I felt certain that the results would be better than camouflaging myself, I folded my wings against my side as my stomach flipped from the brief feeling of weightlessness. I directed my punch toward the entrance, and was surprised that my plan had actually came out quite well. Maybe I might have a chance of escaping-

-when a strong force rammed me on the side.

I gasped as the air was driven out of me, and crashed back down on the gravel, stirring up a miniature dust cloud on impact. My mind was in a daze for a few seconds from hitting my head on a rock that jutted out as I stared up at the fraxure – the one that came in the tunnel second – who placed one of her tusks at my throat. Her eyes sparked a hatred for me, though I couldn't blame her and my appearance as much as my actions.

"Why did you hurt Little Brother?" She spoke through what seemed to be gritted teeth. Of course. She had to keep her tusks from wavering. "He did nothing wrong, and you decided to attack him. What's that for, huh? And what are you anyways?"

Well, fraxure, your so-called innocent brother started the fight. Technically. He made me angry. But I placed the first blow. Wait, so did I start the fight? He didn't even fight back. Now I'm confused.

"Sagua, no!" The other female fraxure called out to her twin. I didn't bother looking at her, it was pointless and dangerous to move a neck while something sharp's aimed at it. With nothing else to do, I closed my eyes and tried to steady by wild breathing. The welt on my side hurt like one of those sandslash claws I saw in my dream, waves of red-hot agony coursing through my right flank.

Sagua retracted her tusk, raising her head to glance at the other sister. Seizing the moment, I pushed, or more likely, flopped, toward the entrance. I curled into a ball as my body gained momentum, rolling closer to the entrance. There were many unexpected bumps along the way that sent me into the air. I yelped whenever a rock poked my wounded side.

Soon by pure luck I rolled into the main entrance. A wave of fresh air entered my nose and I found myself liking it, probably after being cramped in the deepest cavern, breathing dank cave air. My eyes felt like they had grit in them, so I'll have to keep them closed and use my other senses. Judging by the telltale _pit-pat_ and thunder outside, the axew didn't lie. It was raining, and it was raining hard.

My head hit the rock wall with a jarring clash, and I promptly unrolled, extremely dizzy from the tumble. It's a wonder how my brain can even think at all, after hitting my head on the wall two times. Wave of nausea rolled in my mind, and I felt like I could pass out any second. Slumping against the walls, I closed my eyes and hoped that everything would end. There was a large amount of grit stuck to my eyes. Its hurt to open them.

I blocked out all the sound from the outside world and focused on my breathing, fast and jagged. My mind was clogged in pain – I had to wait for it to clear before I do anything else. Droplets of rain dripped onto my skin, and I scooted away from the downpour.

Out of nowhere, strong arms scooped me up and I was lifted from the floor. I first I panicked and flailed my limbs, but then I heard the gruff whispers that I knew so sell, and settled down. When did she come in? Apparently my senses suck.

I curled into a ball and snuggled next to my mother. The next few minutes were a whir as she exchanged information to the mother haxorus _who I didn't see either_. By the time I blinked all the clinging grit out of my eyes, the annoying axew and the two fraxure twins had entered too, anywere know clustered around the haxorus's enormous feet. They probably smell bad, too.

Apparently while I was asleep, dreaming of the time I had obtained the sandshrew scale, it started raining. The axew family were just passing by and stopped at the nearest shelter – which happened to be our cave. Thinking that the cave was empty since my mom was away to hunt at that time, the haxorus released her kids and let them explore. The axew found me first and that triggered my side of the events. In the middle of the conversation I coughed and started to say something, only to be interrupted by Mother.

"I'm sorry, but there is no cave for two dragon-types to co-exist together, especially after our children started such a bitter rivalry." She growled, noting how the axew and I sent sparks flying in each other's directions with out glares. The haxorus regarded her with an no-way-are-you-crazy look on her face, but I think she knew fully well know she couldn't take on a seasoned warrior like my mother.

"Out." The scarred druddigon snapped, and I felt a jolt as she took a step forward. Her voice no longer contained the loving tone that she uses when she talks to me. In fact, it didn't contain any sense of pity at all.

This time, the haxorus mother finally got the point and trudged toward the cave entrance, herding her children with her. The rain droplets fell with a soft pit-pat on their scales and streamed down their olive green armor.

"The rain's cold, Mom. It hurts." It was the kinder one of the fraxure twins, wrapping her hands around her body and shivering visibly. I felt a pang of pity for her. No sane dragon likes to be out in the cold.

And with that last thought, they were gone. Left to find some other place to stay.

Mother finally set me onto the ground, and I jumped onto the gravel, careful not to slip. I turned to her, a majestic red and blue figure tinted with the shadows and bearing many scars of both victory and defeat. "Can't we just let them stay?"

Mother shook her head. "Mandy, you've got to understand this concept. It know it's hard to grasp, but I did it for _you_. They hurt you. I saw your condition when I entered the cave. You can't just let total strangers reside in your home. _Especially_ after they show signs of aggression, small or not.

"Oh." I let the thought rest in my head for a moment, then abruptly changed the subject. "Did you bring home any meat?"

Again, she shook her head. "No. But luckily I predicted that it would rain before it did, so I got enough time to pick a handfull of berries. She produced a leather sack and flung it at my feet. "Here. Pecha, your favorite, aspear to ward off frost, and rawst to keep you warm."

"Thank you!" I cried, and dug into the bag. There were enough berries for both of us, and we shared a berry dinner together. In a few minutes, I had blissfully forgotten about the other family, who were probably soaking in the cold.

* * *

**Yay! You survived this crappy chapter!** **You are officially awesome.**

**The main protagonist, Mandy, is narrating the story. Therefore, there are multiple biased comments and sentence errors since she is telling the story of her life. At least that's my excuse.**

**Ideas? Critiques? Suggestions? Please review!**


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